by R. B. Conroy
Beads of perspiration broke out on Cathy’s forehead. “Are you threatening me, Mr. Harrison?”
“Hell yes, I’m threatening you.”
“What is it you want from me? What is it?” Cathy hissed. Furious, she began pacing back and forth in the kitchen.
“I think it would be fun as hell to bed down with a rich woman twenty years my senior. That’s what I want.”
Her mind was racing. What was she going to do with this guy? He was good looking enough. In fact, he kind of turned her on a little when she was talking to him. Maybe just a harmless little tryst would get this guy off her back so she could continue to plan her future with Eric. She was almost in a panic thinking about this creep coming into her life. Hands and voice shaking, she replied, “That’s out of the question, I’m married.”
“Oh, come off the married crap, lady, we both know you’re screwing around outside of your marriage. Cut the bullshit.”
He was right and Cathy knew it. He had her over the barrel. The usually calm and collected Cathy Roberts was back on her heels. “I…uh, need to think about things. My life’s kind of complicated right now.”
Dirk laughed out loud, “I’ll bet it is.”
Cathy was speechless, upset that this rogue of a man had invaded her life.
“Listen, lady, I’m not interested in no long term girlfriend, boyfriend stuff. Just a few roles in the hay, that’s all I need, lady. That’s it.” He snickered wickedly.
It was obvious that he had the upper hand and Cathy knew it. “Maybe we could meet somewhere and just talk about this.”
“Talk’s cheap, ma’am, I want action.”
“Let’s just talk first. Okay, please?”
He breathed in and exhaled slowly. There was a long pause and then he replied with little conviction, “Okay.”
“I have some shopping to do on the north side tomorrow. Why don’t we meet up there? There’s a Burger King in the La Plaza Grand shopping center in Lady Lake. I’ll meet you there tomorrow at 11:00.”
“You’re in luck, lady, that BK is right by my shop. I’ll be there at eleven sharp. And don’t be late; I only take a half an hour for lunch.”
“I’m always on time, Mr. Harrison.”
“That’s good, sexy lady, see ya tomorrow.” He clicked off his phone.
Cathy was numb. She dropped the phone back on the stand and just stood and stared out her large kitchen window. “That arrogant SOB!” she whispered as she turned and walked over to the hallway that led to their bedroom.
She snuck quietly into the bedroom and glanced over at her husband, lying on his back with his mouth wide-open and snoring loudly. A still open book moved up and down on his chest with each breath. He looks like he’s a hundred years old; she shook her head in disgust. She lifted the book off his chest and quietly laid it on the nightstand by his side of the bed. Ugly thoughts occupied her mind as she walked quietly to the bathroom to get ready for bed.
11
“Wake up, Cathy! Wake up!” Cathy could feel someone shaking her as she lay in bed. “You’ve been moaning and groaning for several minutes. You even woke me up. You must be having a nightmare or something.”
Cathy’s eyes squinted through the light on Ed’s lamp. “Oh yes, I was h…having an awful dream. But it’s over now.” Cathy didn’t want to talk to Ed about her dream. She had just dreamed about the dreadful death of her childhood neighbor so many years ago. In the dream, she had relived the horrid moment, when as a nine year old, she calmly pushed her young friend over the edge of that jagged crevice near their home. Her friend’s demise was something she had never discussed with anyone and she certainly wasn’t going to start now. Over the years, her friends and family thought the self-induced silence was a result of the great inner pain she felt. Little did they know she was harboring a dark, ugly secret and she wanted to keep it that way.
Cathy wondered why she would have such a dream so many years later. Maybe it had something to do with her horrible plans for her husband Ed, she wasn’t sure. Regardless, her reactions to the horrid dream were predictable for the cold, calculating diva. Rather than being appalled by reliving the violent murder of her friend, she smiled and whispered. “If I did it once, I can do it again.”
Ed interrupted her thoughts. “It must have been a doozy. I’ve never seen you flop around in the bed like you did tonight.”
“Well, you know how dreams are, Ed.” She pushed her arms to the ceiling and yawned mightily, anxious to change the subject. “What did you do last night?’
“After Dave and I played golf, I stopped by Sumter Landing to listen to Rocky and the Rollers for a while. Ran into Will at Sumter.”
Cathy was anxious to keep the topic on Ed’s activities, “Oh yeah, what did old Will have to say?”
“He said he thought he saw you at Cody’s with some gentleman having a drink.” Ed’s eyes froze on his wife, awaiting her reply.
“Wasn’t me. Our match went long. We all stopped for a quick drink at City Fire later, but that’s all.”
Ed looked away, “That’s what I thought. He must have seen somebody else.”
“I don’t know Will that well anyway. We’ve only been out with them a couple of times. I can barely remember what he looks like. I’m sure it’s probably the same with him for me.”
Feeling relieved, Ed nodded. “Probably so.”
Cathy tossed the blankets off and climbed out of bed. Her underarms were damp. She wanted to get into the bathroom to end the discussion of her previous night’s activities as quickly as possible. She hurried into the master bathroom and shut the door behind her.
Satisfied with Cathy’s explanation, Ed shouted through the door, “I’m going to throw my shorts on and run over to Sweetbay and get a newspaper. Take your time in there, I’ll shower later. Bye, love.”
Cathy flinched at the ‘bye, love’ comment from her husband. She felt no love or closeness to Ed Roberts. Theirs was a marriage of convenience-a boring, lifeless, marriage of convenience.
12
Daisy didn’t like working past-due accounts. She could almost feel her blood pressure rising as she lifted the next stack of delinquents from her drawer. Whenever she brought up the subject of hiring a collection firm to do “the dirty work” as she liked to call it, Dirk would have no part of it. He always gave the same answer, “Why should I pay some over-priced A-hole to do a job when you can do it.” With profits continuing to dwindle, any change in the shop’s accounting system would be an expense they just couldn’t afford. She wouldn’t dare bring it up to Dirk now.
Daisy scanned the stack of invoices lying on her desk in front of her. She grabbed one off the top and carefully read it over to be certain she had the details correct and then lifted the office phone and punched in the number.
“Hello, James?”
“Yes.”
“This is Daisy over at The Cycle Shop.”
“Sure, Daisy, what can I do for you?”
“Well, it seems as though your repair bill on your’04 Harley is now more than ninety days past due. We are just about to turn this account over to our repo department for pick-up. I’m calling to give you a chance to bring your account current before I have to do that.”
“I’ve…uh, been out of work for over six months and the unemployment I’ve been getting is barely enough to pay the rent and put a little grub on the table. It’s been tough around here. I’m really not able to pay anything right now.”
“So, you were out of work when you brought your bike in?”
“Well, I have to have my bike, it’s my only form of transportation If I don’t have my bike, I can’t look for work.”
Daisy frowned. “How were you planning on paying for your repairs back then?”
“I had a little money put back for emergencies and I was planning on using that, but then I got a nasty letter from the electric company saying I owed them over four hundred dollars, and there went my extra cash.” He chuckled nervously. “You can’t live
in the dark, ya know.”
Daisy had heard such stories a hundred times before, and as usual, she was losing her patience. They all had some reason why they could pay everyone else but her.
She took a deep breath and went on, “Sounds like your motorcycle is very important to you.”
“Yeah, it sure it is.”
“You owe us over six hundred dollars, Mr. Hall, and if it is not paid by the end of this month we WILL repo your motorcycle. Do you understand?”
There was quiet on the other end and then the obviously annoyed customer replied, “You can’t do that. I have to have my bike.”
“I understand, James, but we have to have our bills paid or we will go out of business. We are a small shop and we can’t afford to fix people’s motorcycles for free.”
“This is bullshit!”
“You can call it whatever you want, but your time has run out. Either pay up by the thirtieth or we’re coming to get your bike.”
“Who’s coming?”
“The boss and a couple of guys.” Dirk wouldn’t dream of doing a repo. He couldn’t be bothered with such things, but the customers had all heard stories about Dirk and his legendary temper and they didn’t want him paying them a visit. Daisy understood this so she referenced the boss as part of the repo team whenever possible. The results of her little con game had been impressive. Their recovery rate improved by about thirty percent when she mentioned Dirk. She hoped it worked this time.
Daisy could barely make out the fellow’s reply, he was obviously aware of Dirk’s reputation. “I have a brother-in-law that’s helped me out from time to time. Maybe he can loan me the cash.”
“Remember, James, you only have until the end of the month.”
“I hear ya.” The phone clicked dead.
Daisy stared at her now silent phone for a moment and dropped it back on the base. “What a job. And for ten bucks an hour,” she groused. She spun around and was surprised to see Dirk standing by the door to the garage.
“Who was that?” he asked.
“James Hall.”
“He hasn’t paid yet?”
“Nope.”
“Why the hell not?”
“He says he’s out of work.”
“Tough shit, a lot of people are out of work.”
Daisy sighed, “I know, boss, that’s why our bottom line stinks.”
Dirk grimaced, “How bad does it stink?”
“Like a skunk. We’ve got several bank loans we can’t pay and our light bill is thirty days past due. Our customers aren’t paying us and the bankers are on our ass. If things don’t turn around soon, and I don’t think they will, we are going to face some tough decisions around here.”
“Sons-a-bitches! I see our customers out drinking all of the time. They got plenty of money for booze!”
“Yeah, I know.”
Dirk shook his head and ducked in the small restroom just off the office area to wash up. He left the door open and shouted out at Daisy. “I’m meeting somebody for lunch over at Burger King. Kind of keep an eye on things, okay?”
“Sure, no problem.”
Dirk ripped a couple of paper towels from the machine and stepped out of the washroom still drying his hands. “I’ll be back around eleven thirty.” He stepped back in the washroom and tossed the paper towels in the wastebasket and squirted on some aftershave from a little bottle he kept on the back of the sink. As he stepped out of the wash room, the strong aroma of the aftershave permeated the stale office air.
Daisy smiled, “Reg tells me you had a good time the other night. Said you were hitting on some rich old babe over at The Villages.”
“Reg talks too much.”
“Is it true?”
“Yeah, and she’s digging me.”
“Be careful, boss. You’re a little out of your league there.”
Dirk tossed an exasperated look at his loyal secretary. “Daisy, honey, if there’s one thing we all know, it’s that Dirk Harrison can take care of himself. Maybe this bitch is out of HER league!” He lifted a small comb from his back pocket, ran it through his shiny, black hair and headed for the front door.
“I gotta go, I’m meeting someone for lunch.”
“I know; you just told me. Watch your manners. Sounds like she’s a lady.”
“Smart ass!”
Dirk hurried out and jumped aboard his Harley low-rider. He rose high in the seat and slammed down on the kick start. The big engine belched to a start. He pumped the accelerator several times as he pushed his bike backward. He kicked it into gear and did a wheelie through the driveway onto highway 27. A chill ran up his spine at the thought of having an affair with someone like Cathy Roberts. His libido was in high gear as he twisted the accelerator and gunned his powerful motorcycle down the busy highway.
Dirk looked down at the concrete whizzing past him on the street below. It brought back memories of his childhood days, riding on the back of his father’s old Harley and looking down at the road. He remembered the smell of his dad’s leather vest just inches from his face. But most of all, he remembered the pain he felt in his stomach and ribs every time the old Harley hit a bump in the road. His father was a mess of a man, severely depressed and a hopeless alcoholic. Never able to please his brute of a father, Dirk heard time and time again as a child what a failure he was and how he would never amount to anything. He could still feel the punishing blows from his father’s huge fist bashing into his chest and ribs during his father’s drunken late night visits to his bedroom in the basement of the run-down dump they called home.
The physical and mental abuse he suffered at the hands of his father caused Dirk to feel a sense of doom inside. It was a constant battle for him to keep from drowning in a sea of despair. He had tried drugs and alcohol and prescription drugs-anything to ease the pain-but those remedies never helped for very long. The only time Dirk really felt good inside was when he was beating someone senseless. His father had turned him into a monster of a man whose only feelings of happiness came when he was inflicting pain on someone else. As a result of his tortured upbringing, Dirk didn’t trust people. He was suspicious of their motives and annoyed by their behavior. Particularly, those people he perceived to have money-people like Cathy Roberts.
Blessed with rugged good looks, he knew his chances for an affair with the philandering Mrs. Roberts would be pretty good, but even a thick-skulled guy like Dirk knew the score. The girls he had taken up with in the past were waitresses and factory workers who couldn’t afford to take him to court for his beatings and verbal abuse. This lady was much different. If he ever became violent with her, he would have hell to pay and he knew it. He would have to watch his behavior with this one; he would have to keep his violent side in check. It was with this in mind, and his hormones on high alert, that Dirk leaned left and sped into the La Plaza Grande shopping center for his meeting with Cathy Roberts.
* * * * * *
Cathy took a sip of her coffee and lifted the local newspaper off the table and attempted to calm her nerves by reading for a while, but she had difficulty concentrating. Her previous night’s love-making with tennis partner, Eric, and the unnerving phone call from this biker guy, Dirk, were making her life very complicated. On top of everything else, she hadn’t slept well last night-she was tired and anxious.
Unable to concentrate, she tossed the newspaper on the table and took another sip of coffee. She glanced at the clock on the opposite wall, it read 10:55. He would be here soon.
At first, she was horrified at the thought of this lowlife coming into her charmed world, but after weighing the pros and cons she had devised a way to use this situation to her advantage. Cold and calculating, she had a proposition of her own for the aggressive Mr. Harrison-one that she hoped could benefit both of them. It was a gamble, but one that she wanted to take.
She heard a chugging motorcycle pull to a stop outside the restaurant. She peered through the window and saw a man dismounting his motorcycle. He looked taller th
an she remembered, but the ugly tattoo of a bloody dagger on his right arm was unmistakable. That’s something you don’t forget! She watched him push through the door and scan the restaurant looking for her. She smiled and lifted her hand ever so slightly to draw his attention.
Dirk nodded and then strolled awkwardly over to her corner table. He paused next to her table with his hands stuffed his front jean pockets. “So, we meet again,” he said sarcastically.
She nodded. She was surprised by his appearance. Still sporting a morning shadow below his tired, glassy eyes, he looked rougher, edgier than she remembered.
“Please, sit down.”
Dirk slid into the booth across from her.
There was lengthy silence with Cathy finally breaking the ice. “Nice motorcycle.”
Dirk stared for a moment at the beautifully made-up, nattily dressed lady and then grunted, “It’s all right, it gets me around.”
The tension at the table was thick. Two people from totally different worlds were meeting to discuss a threat made on the weakest of pretenses after a short chat at a local bar the night before. Initially, it all seemed so absurd to Cathy, but after much thought, she now saw an opportunity in this inane meeting. She wasted no time in setting the agenda. “I believe you said you owned a cycle shop the other night at Cody’s.”
“Yeah, I got a bike shop. So what?”
“How’s business?”
Dirk squirmed in his seat; the question hit a nerve. “Not worth a damn.”
Cathy nodded slightly as if acknowledging that Dirk’s answer was just what she had expected. “Profits down?”
“What profits?” he shook his head.
She looked into his pale blue eyes. They looked cold and empty and cruel-just as she had hoped.
